transaction of the Monday, and I find £1020 of Cook’s money applied to
the prisoner’s use. He goes up to London; he had ascertained by some
means or other the amount that Cook was entitled to receive on the
Monday--possibly Cook had told him; Fisher was Cook’s agent, and the
probability is that Cook desired the prisoner to hand an account of his
bets which he had won to Fisher, who would go and settle with the
parties at Tattersall’s; Fisher would have to pay himself back the £200;
we know that he intended his accounts should pass through Fisher,
because he asked Fisher to advance the £200 upon the credit of it; but
it is suggested that under the guidance of Palmer he now meditated a
fraud, and that he intended to pass his account through Mr. Herring, in
order to avoid paying Fisher the £200 for a time. Is it charitable to
Mr. Cook to ascribe to him a fraud of this description, which, so far as
we know, he was not in the habit of doing? I ask you this question as
reasonable men, supposing he had disposed of his ready money, and we
find none left--that he had given the prisoner £300 to send up, you
cannot suppose that this man who had nothing of his fortune left, who
sees ruin staring him in the face--he was not a ruined man as long as he
had this money, but having parted with this money he was a ruined
man--you cannot suppose that he intended to deprive himself of the whole
of the money that he had won, to leave himself destitute and naked for
the coming winter; the thing is out of the question--besides, if the
prisoner’s representation is true which he made to Mr. Cheshire, that he
had got the genuine cheque of this man for very nearly the amount,
through his agents, Messrs. Wetherby, of the stakes at Shrewsbury, you
are asked to believe on the one hand that he had given him his ready
money, and on the other hand that he had given him a cheque to receive
of Messrs. Wetherby, and that he had given him £1020, which constituted
absolutely the whole that the poor man possessed--you are asked to
believe that he hands it over to the prisoner to go and dispose of as he
pleases--that is my learned friend’s proposition, but I do not think you
will adopt it.
[Sidenote: Attorney-General]
Then, if that be not so, what does the prisoner do? He goes to London,
but does not go to Fisher, who was the agent of Cook, who would, in the
first place, have paid himself back the £200, and, in the second place,
would not have paid the sums which he received except upon Cook’s
authority and instruction, but would have sent the money to Cook, or
have paid it upon Cook’s written direction as to what was to be done
with it. He takes the account, therefore, to a comparative stranger, who
never had acted for Mr. Cook before, feeling that that stranger would
have no hesitation or repugnance in paying the money according to the
direction of the man from whom he had the direction to receive it,
supposing that both emanated from Mr. Cook, the person interested in the
money. Accordingly he says to Mr. Herring, “Here is a list of bets which
Cook will be entitled to be paid at Tattersall’s; they are so much, you
dispose of it in this way; pay yourself £200”; it being the fact that
Mr. Cook and the prisoner had before raised the sum, I think, of £600;
£200 had been raised by Mr. Cook on his acceptance, and £400 had been
raised on the acceptance of the prisoner. Mr. Cook’s portion had been
paid off, but that of the prisoner remained unpaid. Palmer says to Mr.
Herring, “Pay yourself £200, then go to Pratt’s and pay him £450; then
go to Padwick and pay him £350.” Now, it is perfectly clear that the
£450 was a debt due from Palmer to Pratt, and it is untrue that Cook had
anything to do with it. The debt of £350 to Padwick was for some bet,
and although it is not proved, I have reason to believe that the minor
part of it was a debt of Cook’s, but the larger part was a debt of
Palmer’s upon a matter in which they stood in together. There is
evidence that Mr. Palmer treated the debt due to Padwick as his. He
says, “I will pay you my bet of £350 at such a time.” I am giving him
credit for what I believe was the fact, that a part of it was Cook’s.
Why was Cook’s debt paid then? There was a warrant of attorney in the
hands of Mr. Padwick, and Mr. Padwick was getting impatient for his
£1000, and if this bet had not been paid to Mr. Padwick, Mr. Padwick
would have resented the non-payment of the debt of honour which he had
no means of enforcing, and would have come down upon Mr. Palmer, no
doubt, at a very early period in respect of the £1000 due upon the bill
dishonoured twelve months before. Exactly that came to pass--in
consequence of Mr. Herring not receiving the whole of the money, he was
not able to pay Mr. Padwick, and the result was that Mr. Padwick put the
process of the law in motion against the prisoner on that bill, and
brought an action against his mother. The bill for £1000 was the bill of
Mr. Palmer, upon which Mr. Cook was not primarily liable. I say here was
a distinct interest which the prisoner had to appropriate this money to
himself, because it was the means for the moment, and the only means he
could resort to, of staving off the evil hour which was rapidly
approaching. The degree of difficulty in which he was placed must not be
measured simply by the amount of his pecuniary liabilities. It was not
merely that he had these large bills upon which at any moment process
might be issued, but he had made his mother answerable for those bills,
and the moment the first of them was put in motion in the Courts the
fraud and forgery would come to light, and he would be exposed not
merely to the consequences of his inability to pay his debts, but to the
consequences of the law which he had violated. The former might have
been got rid of in the Insolvent Court or the Bankruptcy Court, but the
crime of forgery could not have been got rid of; for that he would have
to answer at the bar of a Court of criminal justice, and would have
incurred the penalty of transportation, or of penal servitude in an
aggravated form. But there is a further sum besides the £1000; he
appropriated a further sum of £350, which was to be got from Messrs.
Wetherby. It is said that he got a genuine cheque from Cook to entitle
him to receive that money, but it is not for a moment suggested what
induced Cook to give it to him. Was it a genuine cheque? That matter
might have been solved by its production. It is not produced; yet it is
quite clear that it was returned to the prisoner’s hands by Messrs.
Wetherby when they could not get the money. It is quite clear that it
was of great importance to him to get the money, because there was £100
to be paid to Pratt, which must be paid in order to stave off the evil
day upon the bill of £1500, which was due on the 9th of November. Where
is that cheque? If it had been produced we could have seen whether it
was a genuine cheque or not. It is not forthcoming. What are the
circumstances under which he presents that cheque to Mr. Cheshire? He
goes to Mr. Cheshire upon the Tuesday, and, having shown the cheque to
Mr. Cheshire, he asks Mr. Cheshire to be so good as to fill up the body
of it. I suppose he saw some manifestation of surprise in Mr. Cheshire,
and he said, “Cook, poor fellow, is ill, and I am apprehensive if I fill
up the body of the cheque Wetherbys will know my handwriting.” Why
should not they know his handwriting? What objection was there, if the
cheque was genuine, and if the transaction was an honest one, to Messrs.
Wetherby knowing that the handwriting was his? Does not it pretty
plainly indicate that there was some fraud going on which he was afraid
might be detected? Why, in heaven’s name, should he send for Cheshire?
He had to send for Cheshire from the post office when Cheshire was
busily engaged in the business of the evening, at seven o’clock in the
evening. Just about that same period, a little before or a little after,
as the case may be, he had to meet Dr. Bamford and Mr. Jones in
consultation as to Cook’s case. Mr. Jones was his intimate friend--the
trusty friend that came over that afternoon. If poor Cook intended to
give him the cheque, and was at the same time so ill that he could not
write, why not have said to Mr. Jones, “Jones, I do not want to bother
Cook to fill up this cheque, fill it up in my favour for £350, and we
will get Cook to sign it?” Why should he send to the post office to get
Cheshire down to his house, alleging at the time that he was
apprehensive that if he filled it up his own handwriting might be known.
Does not that transaction bear fraud upon the face of it? On the other
hand, it may be a genuine cheque; but, I ask again, where is it? Between
the time when these matters were called in question and the time when
Mr. Palmer was finally arrested, not upon the criminal but upon the
civil process, which came down unluckily for him before the coroner’s
inquest, which secured his bodily presence to answer not only the
pecuniary matters but these charges, in the interval he had undisturbed
possession of his own papers. From the moment when that freedom of
action and possession ceased, we have traced the possession of the
papers; and it is clear that at the time those papers were taken
possession of that cheque was not amongst them; it is clear that the
prisoner, who had possession of it, must have dealt with it in some
manner. What has become of it? Why is it not produced? Can you help
drawing the inference from its non-production that there is something in
the transaction that will not bear the light? It is clear that he
intended to get possession of the £350, which ought to have been given
to Cook, upon false pretences. He had not a farthing himself, for when
he went to Shrewsbury races he borrowed £25. As I have shown, a person
made a bet for him upon the races, and, having won £200, pressed him for
the debt, but could not get another shilling from him. I show you that
he comes back to Rugeley, and is from that moment in the possession of
money. Where could he have got that money? It is clear that he must have
got it from Cook, who had not any left himself; it is clear that he had
all that money to the extent of £350, probably much more, and besides
that he gets £1020 as the proceeds of the betting at Tattersall’s, and
he attempts to get, but does not get, £375, which ought to have been
paid into Messrs. Wetherbys’ hands. This was the whole of the worldly
possessions, the whole sum of the wealth of this poor young man.
[Sidenote: Attorney-General]
But he is not satisfied with that--it is clear that he meditated another
fraud of a different description. On the Friday, almost as soon as the
breath is out of the man’s body, he intimates that he has a claim upon
him for £3000 or £4000 in respect of bills which had his (Palmer’s) name
or acceptance upon them, but which, in fact, had been negotiated for
Cook’s purposes. He tells the same story to the father-in-law, but it is
as clear as the sun at noonday that he endeavoured to fabricate an
instrument to give a show of colour to those representations. He goes on
the Thursday or the Friday to Mr. Cheshire, and brings to him a document
which he asks him to attest, that document bearing the signature “J. P.
Cook.” The man having left the body, and living only in the spirit
eight-and-forty hours before that signature had been brought to be
attested, who can fail to see that here was some great fraud and design
meditated? What was the document? It was a document which purported to
be an acknowledgment from Cook that certain large bills which had been
negotiated were for Cook’s benefit, and for Cook’s benefit alone, and
that he (Palmer) had had no part of the proceeds. Now, there are no such
bills in existence. We have exhausted the bills pretty well, I think,
and none such are proved to exist; but if there be any such bills in
existence, who would know it better than the prisoner at the bar? He
could have no difficulty in satisfying you of the fact, and of removing
this great stumbling-block in the way of his defence; but he produces
this document; and on the same day, the day that followed this poor
man’s death, he writes to Pratt, and says, “Mind, I must have ‘Polestar’
if it can be arranged.” What was this scheme? Having got every shilling
of the man’s money, his purpose was to secure the little property that
remained in “Polestar,” the value of which he may perhaps to himself
have considerably exaggerated. The mare had just won, and she might be
supposed to be worth more than she had been, or he had in view
speculating at other races to bring about results of benefit to himself.
Further, he may have intended to pay out of Cook’s estate some of those
bills, under the pretence that Cook had had the money for them. For all
these purposes, from the beginning to the end, it was necessary that
Cook should be put on one side. Then with this document in his hand he
goes to Cheshire, and he asks Cheshire to attest the signature of a man
who was then dead. If Cheshire had had the weakness and wickedness to
comply he would have had him in his power; and the next thing would have
been that he would have brought him trembling and reluctant into the
witness-box of some Court of justice to swear to the fact that he had
seen the dead man put his signature to that piece of paper. But it may
be suggested that, after all, the document was a genuine one, and that
the signature was not a forgery. Then produce it and we can judge. Here,
again, I point out, and there is no escape from it, that the papers of
the prisoner were in his possession till the time of his arrest, and
they have been taken care of since then, and are here one and all,
either to be answered for or produced in his presence, or they have been
handed over to his brother. Who would not fail to notice that this paper
has never been found or asked for? Who can doubt that that paper brought
to Cheshire remained in the possession of the prisoner? Who can doubt
that it is either destroyed or is purposely withheld? Under these
circumstances who can doubt that in it is to be found proof of some
meditated act--of some vast design of a fraudulent and flagitious
character, for the full completion of which the death of Cook was a
necessary thing?
Now, gentlemen, I have gone through that part of the case which relates
to the motives of the prisoner, and it will be for you to say whether
you are satisfied that this was a death by strychnia--that the prisoner
was in possession of strychnia--that he had access to the dead man’s
bedside, and that he administered pills to him at a period short enough
to be capable of being connected with the catastrophe that afterwards
happened; and it will be for you to say whether you do not find that the
state of things with reference to pecuniary matters to which I have been
just alluding is sufficient to account for the act which is ascribed to
the prisoner.
[Sidenote: Attorney-General]
But there is another part of his conduct as throwing light upon this
matter to which I cannot fail to refer. What has become of Cook’s
betting book? What has been the conduct and the language of the prisoner
with reference to it? On the night when Cook died, ere the breath had
hardly passed from that poor man’s body, the prisoner at the bar was
rummaging his pockets and searching under his pillow. That may have
been for a perfectly legitimate purpose. But let us see what takes
place. He calls to Mr. Jones, and he tells Mr. Jones that it is his
duty, as the nearest friend of the dead man, to take possession of his
effects, and Mr. Jones does take possession of his watch, and
afterwards, at the suggestion of the prisoner, of his rings. At the same
time Mr. Jones asks for the betting book. My learned friend endeavoured
to explain away this most awkward part of the case by saying, “There
were other persons who had access to the place. The undertaker came
there with his men, the women came to lay out the dead body, and the
servants were there; any one of those might have stolen the book.” But
all this is met by the fact that, on that same night, before the women
had had anything to do in the room--before they came to lay out the
corpse--before anybody made their appearance--that very night, when Mr.
Jones is seeking to gather up the effects of the dead man, he asks for
the book. What is the answer? “Oh,” says Palmer, adopting the language
which he afterwards repeated, “the betting book will be of no use to any
one.” Does anybody doubt in his own mind where that betting book had
gone to? The father-in-law came down on the Friday, and he begins to
discourse about the affair, and he is not satisfied with the answers he
gets. The day passes away. He says to Mr. Jones, “Be so good as to
collect my son-in-law’s betting book and papers and bring them away.”
Mr. Jones goes upstairs; he is immediately followed by the prisoner--up
they go, but there is no betting book to be found. Down comes Mr. Jones,
and says to Mr. Stevens, “We cannot find the betting book.” “Not find
the betting book! surely you must be mistaken”; and, turning round, he
says, “Why, Mr. Palmer, how is this?” Upon which Mr. Palmer says, “Oh,
the betting book is of no use.” “No use! I am the best judge of that. I
think it will be of a good deal of use.” The observation is again
repeated, “It is of no use.” Mr. Stevens said, “Why?” “Because a dead
man’s bets are void, and because he received the money himself upon the
course at Shrewsbury.” A dead man’s bets are void! Yes, that is true;
they are void, but not when they have been received in his lifetime. Who
received the dead man’s bets? The prisoner at the bar. Who appropriated
the proceeds of the dead man’s bets? The prisoner at the bar. Who was
answerable for them? The prisoner at the bar. Who had an interest in
concealing the fact that he had received them? He had. What was the best
mode of doing it? The destruction of the betting book. What was the best
mode of calming the determination of the man who was the executor of the
dead man, when he wanted to know what he was entitled to receive and
what he had received, and to see the record of his pecuniary
transactions? Why, to tell him that the record, even if found, would be
of no use, for a dead man was not entitled to any bets, he having died
before they were received--yet at that very moment he had received the
proceeds of the bets which he was representing as void, and was applying
the proceeds to his own purpose. Does not that throw light upon the real
nature of the transaction? What possible motive could he have for
representing that the bets were void, having himself received them,
unless he knew that he had received them fraudulently and wrongfully?
See what would have taken place if the truth had come out. Mr. Stevens,
if he had seen that book, would have seen that his stepson was entitled
to receive £1020. He would have inquired who was his agent, to see
whether by any possibility those debts could be realised; he would have
learned what everybody knew, at least that portion of the turfites with
whom Cook was in the habit of communicating, that Fisher was his agent.
Fisher would have told him, “I ought to have received the money to repay
myself £200, but Mr. Herring received the money.” He would have gone to
Mr. Herring, and he would have found that every shilling of the money
found its way into the prisoner’s pocket, and was appropriated for his
own purposes. How was all this to be done? By the removal of Cook, and
then by the destruction of the only record which could have afforded to
his representative, who was entitled to stand in his place and realise
his pecuniary rights, the information of the money having been received
by a wrongdoer, by a man who had no right to it. Gentlemen, I submit
these things to your consideration, but I submit them to you as leading,
unhappily, but to one conclusion, and that the conclusion of the
prisoner’s guilt.
[Sidenote: Attorney-General]
But, gentlemen, the matter does not even rest here; there is more of the
prisoner’s conduct yet to be commented upon, on which I must say a few
words before I conclude. Mr. Stevens determined upon having a
post-mortem examination. Let us watch the conduct of the prisoner in
respect of that most important part of the history of this case. Dr.
Harland comes over to perform this most important office; the prisoner
is on the watch to see who comes; he meets him as he alights at the inn;
he accompanies him to Dr. Bamford’s; they get into conversation about
this death, and Dr. Harland says, naturally enough, speaking to a
brother medical man who he supposed had been attendant upon the patient,
“What is this case? I hear there is a suspicion of poisoning.” “Oh, no,”
says Palmer, “not at all; no suspicion of poisoning; the man had two
epileptic fits upon the Monday and Tuesday, and you will find old
disease, both of the head and of the heart.” Well, there was no disease
found of the head or of the heart, unless that very wise gentleman, whom
I should have liked to have asked a few questions of to-day, was right
about his story of angina pectoris, which I doubt was ever accompanied
by tetanic symptoms in this world, or that any other man in the universe
would declare that it was. “You will find disease of the head and the
heart.” They opened him, and found neither. He said, “He had two
epileptic fits on the Monday and Tuesday.” That very same man the day
before had gone to Dr. Bamford, and asked Dr. Bamford to fill up the
certificate, and Dr. Bamford said naturally enough, “He is your patient,
not mine; I have only attended him at your request.” “No, I would rather
you did.” He gets Dr. Bamford to fill in “apoplexy”; the next day he
tells Dr. Harland that it is a case of epilepsy. This is not an ordinary
individual, but a medical man, possessing full knowledge and information
with regard to medical matters. However, the post-mortem examination
took place; before they go to it there is some conversation with Newton
which I will not again more particularly refer to; it is not
satisfactory, nor does it show the state of mind in which you would
expect to find a man whose friend had just died, from the way in which
he speaks of the examination about to take place. Let us come to the
examination itself. The stomach and its contents are, as we understood,
removed; there is some story about his having pushed against the parties
who were performing the examination; I think that is carrying the matter
too far; it may have been an accident, and we will look at it in that
light; at last the stomach, we say without its contents, and a portion
of the intestines are put into a jar, and the jar is fastened with a
parchment covering doubled over it; it is tied and sealed, and then it
is placed upon a table while the post-mortem examination, with reference
to other parts of the body, is made. Dr. Harland has this done; when Dr.
Harland turns round he finds the jar removed; he immediately makes an
outcry, and then at the other end of a long room, and at a door which
was not the proper entrance, but a door which led into a different
apartment, which apartment led into the passage, the prisoner was found
with the jar in his hand, and when Dr. Harland exclaims, he says, “I
thought it would have been more convenient to you when you were going
out.” That might have been his motive, though it was an awkward
circumstance that the jar containing the stomach should be in the hands
of the man against whom there rested a suspicion of having deprived the
deceased of life by unfair means. That is not all; two slits were found
in the parchment cover when it was tied and sealed up; who could have
made them except the prisoner? What did he do it for? There, again, we
are lost in conjecture, but the only conclusion at which we can arrive
is against the honesty of the purpose and the integrity of the
transaction; whether it may have been for the purpose of introducing
something which might be capable of neutralising the poison, I cannot
tell you; all I know is the fact, and it is a fact of very significant
importance in the consideration of the case.